


Sick-Alex Edition

by Whattfisausername



Series: (Mostly Angst) Lams One-Shots [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex has trauma, Alexander Hamilton Needs Sleep, Angst, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, But Still Kinda Angsty, Established Relationship, Fluffier than my normal stuff, Gay Character, Gay John Laurens, Gay Male Character, George Washington is a Dad, Hurt/Comfort, If Alex keeps this shit up he's gonna work himself to death, John Is a Good Boyfriend, John is a Saint, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Death, Panic Attacks, Sick Character, Sickfic, Washingdad, seriously Alex take a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whattfisausername/pseuds/Whattfisausername
Summary: Alex has a nasty habit of getting sick during the winter. He also has the unfortunate trauma of his mother's death due to illness. When the two combine, you get some nice hurt-comfort fanfic. Originally posted here (https://www.wattpad.com/story/231885861-mostly-angst-lams-one-shots) on Wattpad, but has since been edited.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: (Mostly Angst) Lams One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931032
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	Sick-Alex Edition

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Panic Attack

The dark of the November night filled many a room through the city of New York, but Alex's office was not one of them. The light of his computer and of the small lamp brightened his office, and the many quiet sounds of Alex working (the tapping of computer keys, the chugging of coffee, the scribbling of a pen) harmonized into a crescendo, an anthem of the all-nighters, night owls, and other late-night workers of the world.

Alex had gotten caught in the rain coming home from work, and he lost several pages of notes to an inconvenient stone, a poorly timed trip over said stone, a bothersome puddle, and a touch of bad luck. Now a tired, frustrated, and cold Alex was up at 1:23 am rewriting his notes. In his focus, he didn't hear the office door opening, nor did he notice a curly-haired, freckled man walking into the room.

"Alex," he said, causing his boyfriend to jump in his seat.

"John Laurens, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry babe, but what are you doing up so late?"

Alex pulled the blanket surrounding him tighter. "I had to re-write these notes I ruined. Serves me right for trying to do some work the old fashioned way," he said.

"Alex, come to bed, please?"

"Later love, I have to finish."

"You can finish in the morning, plus I don't want you getting sick."

"I'll be fine, John. Don't worry."

"I'm your boyfriend, worrying about you is my job. Also, you're cold, otherwise you wouldn't have that blanket, so you're likely already sick and being tired is just going to make things worse."

"John-"

"Alexander, please."

He relented, saving his work, crawling into bed, and falling asleep before John could even kiss him goodnight.

The phone alarm woke Alex with a start the next morning. In an instant, throbbing pain seared through his head, and a cough burned his throat.

"Fuck, John was right," he whispered to himself. He could already feel the anxiety brewing in his stomach, or maybe he was just gonna puke. Either way, he laid back down and grabbed his boyfriend's hand to ground himself. He began hacking again, the noise waking John up.

"I told you you'd be sick," John said with a groggy voice. Alex flipped him off in response.

"This wouldn't happen if you didn't stay up working half the night."

"Hey, it's the start of winter, and we both know how easily I get sick this time of year." Alex had a nasty habit of always getting sick during the winter months, which he attributed to being born in the Caribbean and thus not used to true winter weather. He also joked that it was the trade-off for being barely affected by New York summers. While his friends and coworkers drowned in their sweat, Alex felt next to nothing.

"So in the Winter you should be more cautious about your health, not less," John said, exasperated by his boyfriend's antics. "You stay here and rest while I get you some breakfast and cold medicine."

"Can you call George for me as well?"

"Sure I can," He said, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before leaving the bedroom.

"First things first, call in sick," he said to himself. He picked up the phone and dialled Washington's number, which rang for only a minute before George picked up.

"Good Morning, this is Washington speaking,"

"Hey, Mr. Wash- I mean George," Washington had asked John many times not to be so formal with him.

"You're basically my son-in-law" he liked to say. Recently, those jokes had him flustered. He had been thinking more and more about his and Alex's futures, daydreaming about being married to Alex, adopting kids, growing old together. He also may or may not have doodled his name as "John Hamilton" like a stereotypical lovesick high school girl once or twice. It wasn't weird to fantasize about that, right? They had been dating for six years, after all.

"It's John calling. Alex is sick, so he won't be coming in today. I hope that's okay."

"That's fine, son. I mean, he has more than a month's worth of sick days available. The poor kid works so hard, he deserves a break."

"Okay, thanks, George. I'll see you around."

"Take care, John. And tell Alex I said hi and that I hope he gets better soon."

"Will do! Bye!" With that, he hung up and began dialling his work number, which brought him to a voice messaging box.

"Good morning! This is John Laurens speaking. My partner, Alex, is sick, so I'll be taking the day off to care for him. I should be back in a few days. Thanks in advance. Bye." He always referred to Alex as his partner rather than his boyfriend regarding work. To him, it made their relationship sound more serious.

With all the necessary calls made, he turned towards the stove as he decided what he should make Alex for breakfast. He decided on hot oatmeal, so he took out a pot, the oats, and some extras to add and began cooking. He also put on a pot of fresh coffee. As the coffee brewed and the oats cooked, he hummed a random song he heard on the radio. He walked over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of cold medicine and a tiny measuring cup. He poured out a bit of the bubblegum flavoured liquid to give Alex along with breakfast. When the oats finished cooking, he spooned out a bowl for himself and for Alex and poured them each a cup of the coffee. Black for Alex, with a splash of milk for himself. He set the food, drinks, and medicine on a tray and brought it to their room.

Alex was still very awake, but at least he was lying down. He saw John and sat up, excited for the breakfast and coffee. He lost some of that enthusiasm when he saw the medicine. John sat the tray on Alex's lap and planted a kiss in his hair.

"Bone nappy tree, moan a-my,"

"I hate you so much."

"As much as Jefferson?"

"Absolutely not! Never compare yourself to that magenta-suit-wearing, shit-talking, pimp walking, southern son of a-" A fit of coughs cut him off. John passed him the cup of medicine. He rolled his eyes and drank the liquid, his face screwing up in disgust.

"Could be worse. I could have gotten you grape." he said. Alex took a large drink of his coffee to drown out the flavour.

"If you ever buy me grape flavoured medicine, I will kick you in the ass so hard you have a permanent bruise," he said, making John laugh. Alex had some very creative threats, so he was glad they were only jokes when said to him. He almost pitied Jefferson for having to deal with his colourful insults day-to-day. Almost.

John crawled back into bed with Alex where they ate and cuddled for a while, Alex rambling about a recent case he had taken in between eating and coughing. John listened happily when Alex talked about the legalese of his case, how it would be an easy win, and painfully while hearing his cough. He knew Alex hated being sick, how much it stressed him out, and seeing his love in pain broke his heart.

Alex dug into his oatmeal with fervour, as he had eaten little the previous day (another unhealthy habit stemming from his constant need to be working). John had only finished half of his by the time Alex had cleaned out his bowl. He continued to ramble about work, politics, writing, and more, eventually wearing himself out and falling back asleep against John's side. He smiled as he watched him rest. It was weird, but John always thought Alex was adorable asleep, with his hair splayed out on the pillow like a splatter of ink, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and his face relaxed rather than furrowed in concentration. It was a rare sight. He only ever got adequate sleep when he was sick. Otherwise, if he slept at all, it would only before a few hours.

With Alex taken care of (or so it seemed), John got up. He had some housework to do, plus he hadn't talked to Laff and Herc in a while and thought of calling them to see how they were doing. John got out of bed again (being careful not to wake up Alex), grabbed the tray of dishes, brought it to the kitchen, and started filling up the sink with water and soap as he grabbed his phone again. He dialled Laff and Herc's number, hoping they could keep him company as he did housework and let Alex sleep. After a moment a familiar French accent rang through.

"John, mon amis! Comma ca va?"

"I'm well, how are you and Herc?"

"Bien. Herc's working on tailoring a girl's dress for winter formal, whatever that is?"

"Oh, It's a formal dance that some high schools do. Others have spring formals. They're kind of like prom but for everyone regardless of grade. Plus, it's not as big a deal socially to not have a date to formal compared to not having a date to prom."

"Oh, I see. How's le petit lion?"

"Sick. He's sleeping in our room at the moment."

"I'm not surprised, what with the chill. You'll send him our regards."

"I will."

"Maybe when he's feeling better, we can all go to the bar together, just like back in college."

"Yes, that sounds awesome! Be sure to invite the Schuyler sisters."

"We will. Speaking of them, did Peggy tell you she got a girlfriend?"

"Is that so? That's great!"

"Oui. Her name is Maria. I ran into them while shopping a few days ago and she seems nice."

"Man, it feels like it's been forever since I've seen her, or any of you guys. Stupid adult life making me too busy to get shitfaced and punch a Trump supporter."

Laff chuckled, "I remember that incident. Fun times. Hey, I have to go, but it was nice to hear from you mon amis!"

"You too! Tell Herc I said hi!"

"Je vais! Au revoir!"

"Bye!"

John hung up the phone as he finished the dishes. Next, he decided to clean the living room, but first, he had to grab some supplies from the closet. As he walked through the small apartment to do so, he heard a muffled cry. He turned to find the source of the sound was his and Alex's bedroom. He walked to the door and knocked with light hits.

"Alex, are you alright in there?" No response. He threw open the door to see what the matter was. Alex had his knees pulled up to his chest as he rocked back and forth, his body convulsing as he gasped and coughed, and despite his hair obstructing John's view of his face, he could tell he was crying. Alex looked up at John, his face twisting in fear and anger.

"You left me! You left me to die alone! How could you! You bastard!" he said with a scream. Though John knew Alex was only lashing out because of the panic attack he was having, he still felt like an idiot. He knew how panicked Alex got at the thought of being sick and dying alone, and he knew why. Alex told him what happened to his family, told him how his Mom, brother, and cousin all died in tragic ways, leaving him abandoned. How his mother's death specifically made him scared of himself or a loved one falling ill and dying. John knew this could/would happen, so why hadn't he thought of that? He felt like the worst boyfriend in the world at that moment, but it was too late to wallow over what he should have done. Now, he had to focus on helping Alex calm down.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left. But I'm here now. You're safe. You're not gonna die. The panic will pass."

"John, I can't breathe! I can't breathe! I'm gonna suffocate! I'm gonna die!"

"Do you want to do the 4-square breathing?" He knew that technique always worked well when Alex was hyperventilating.

Alex paused for a second before responding, "Yes."

"Just listen to my instructions and follow along, okay?" He nodded.

"Breathe in for 1, 2, 3, 4." Alex followed with a quivering inhale.

"Hold for 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out for 1, 2, 3, 4." His exhale was choppy but already less so.

"Hold for 1, 2, 3, 4." They repeated the sequence 7 more times. By the time they finished, Alex's breathing had normalized for the most part, and he stopped shaking.

"How do you feel?"

"Better, but still not good."

"That's okay. I'm glad your feeling better. Now, do you want me to hold you, count with you, or the 5 senses technique?" He asked, hoping to help ground him.

"Hold me while counting, please." He nodded, climbing back into bed yet again. Alex took to burying his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck. John wrapped his arms around the still crying man, tracing gentle circles into his back, feeling him relax into him.

"Do you want to count in English, French, or Spanish?"

"Spanish."

"Okay. Multiples of 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, or 9?"

"Six"

"Okay."

"Cien, noventa y cuatro, ochenta y ocho..." They started counting. Along with the distracting task of counting in his third language at an odd multiple, he also took in the various other grounding feelings and senses around him, such as the warmth of John's body, the lingering smell of his cologne from yesterday, the circles he was rubbing into his back, and the softness of the bed and his hair. He didn't even realize he had stopped crying.

"... dieciséis, diez, cuatro," They finished.

"How do you feel now?"

"Tired."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, for panicking over something as stupid as you being in another room when I woke up, for being a pathetic little baby because my mom died."

"You have nothing to apologize for. You panicked and lashed out. I should have been more aware of when you woke up and I should have remembered your anxiety. You are not pathetic. Your mother's death was traumatizing. I understand. I promise, as long as I'm alive, I'll be here for you."

"How did I end up with the greatest boyfriend in the world?"

"By being the smartest, most talented, passionate, and loving man in the universe."

Alex was almost completely asleep, and in that moment of complete inhibition and lack of awareness, he mumbled, "You're gonna be the best husband." With that, he fell asleep. John turned bright red at his comment, hugging tight the once again sleeping Alex in his arms, a giddy smile on his face. Alex wanted to marry him. He would have to mention that to him once he was feeling better. Until then, he decided he might as well take a nap with his boyfriend. Thus he fell asleep, dreaming of introducing himself as John Hamilton.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Be sure to leave a comment and kudos!


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